DISCLAIMER: I own no part of the characters in this story, they belong to JKR. This is just a bit of rambling about how the stories may unfold. No copyright infringement is intended.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: How many times has JKR referred to the "dark, dark ending" to the series? Or stated that there can be no more stories after Book 7? Is she preparing Harry's fans for the worst? Maybe this is how it all could end, but let's hope not!

(And don't forget, the final word is supposed to be "scar".)

This is my first ever fanfic, so I'd really appreciate some feedback!



THE FINAL CHAPTER



Ron and Harry felt the ground tremors as vast and ancient stone walls collapsed above them. Hogwarts was being randomly demolished by Voldemort. It would not take very long for the Dark Lord to realise that they had gone to hide in the Chamber of Secrets.

Harry drew out his wand.

"You sure you can remember everything?" he asked.

"I can remember – I remember everyone I'm doing this for!" snarled Ron.

Harry gripped Ron's wrist.

"We get one chance Ron. It's now or.."

"Don't say it – he dies here, now. We're going to destroy the vile bastard!"

From its crumbling wrapping, Harry pulled out the Book of Aristarchus. He threw the sackcloth to one side. If the Mirror Erised worked as it did seven years before, he would be able to read the book. If not, the pages would simply scream, attracting Voldemort, and death.

He walked with Ron to the Mirror and stared. Ron could see little in the gloom of the Chamber, except himself standing with Harry – and Hermione.

"I can't see anything except …" he turned away suddenly. This was what he had feared; the anger that drove him on, would be cancelled out by the grief that consumed him.

"It's okay Ron, I know what you can see," said Harry, and he gently pushed Ron away.

Harry's view into the Mirror was clearing rapidly now. He could see Ron holding his wand and moving his lips to form snarling words. The words were becoming easier to lip read, but he saw that in the Mirror, Ron was holding the Book of Aristarchus out before him. Harry took a step forward, and the cover opened. This time there was no hideous screaming. Ron's image stared at the real Harry for a moment and then turned the page. The words were there for him to read and memorise. It was the final piece of information that would complete their plan.

Harry felt suddenly cold as he continued to gaze into the Mirror. Only just managing to control his trembling voice, at last he turned to Ron and whispered the words of the spell that had taken so long and cost so much to discover. Ron repeated the spell until he was word perfect. It didn't take very long.

A screeching, hissing voice cut through them like a jet of acid. Voldemort had descended into the Chamber. Ron shot away from Harry and hid behind one of the enormous stone pillars. He gripped his wand tightly and wiped cold sweat from his eyes.

"Potter!"

Harry drew his own wand and stood before the Mirror, ready to face Voldemort.

"Don't make this difficult for yourself boy!"

"I don't intend to make it easy for you!" yelled Harry.

"I can see you Potter, I could destroy you now, if I so choose!"

"You are a coward Voldemort! Face me – unless you're so ashamed of that thing you've become…"

Slowly, with a sickening sound of wet slime and sour, panting breath, Voldemort fell to the floor in front of Harry. He had been coiled up high in the ceiling, around the stone pillars and gargoyles. Ron prayed that he had not been seen.

"I can not be ashamed of the power I possess, and ability I have to snatch away your pitiful life, Potter."

"I'm not going to let you go on, Voldemort!" yelled Harry, "You're finished – no more killing – no more fear!"

"You arrogant child! Once I have taken your life – I will tear out your heart and eat it! When next the Sun rises boy, I will be Alive and IMMORTAL!"

Ron heard a series of hysterical shrieks, which he assumed was Voldemort's laughter. He chose to risk a look around the side of the pillar, and almost wished he hadn't. Voldemort had never been truly human, Ron had decided long ago, but now, it was worse. The serpent in him had begun to evolve into his body, turning his white skin scaly green. And those eyes! Lidless slits with yellow pupils that were shaped like gashed open flesh. When he shrieked with laughter, the lower part of his face seemed to disconnect, like the jaw of a feeding snake. Then Ron saw the pair of dripping yellow fangs, now exposed, and realised that Voldemort could kill just as quickly without a wand. He screwed up his face and held in a scream with his hands.

"Hermione!"

The time had come. He could see Harry pointing his wand at Voldemort's head. And somehow, without him seeming to move, the Dark Lord had raised his own wand, holding it before him, ready to strike.

Ron saw Harry close his eyes, breathe hard and shout, "Avada Kedavra!"

Voldemort was hissing out the curse at the same instant, and the green lightning flashes met in the air, leaving no dark place for Ron to hide.

"You are wasting time Potter! I am no longer the neophyte creature you duelled at my rebirth!"

"NOW!" yelled Harry

Ron leapt out into the open. His wand was raised and his lips were speaking, slowly, calmly and with great power. He felt detached from everything, but knew it was he, Ron, who was carrying out the Wand Breaking Spell.

The green beams that poured out of the wands were turning to violent orange flashes. Ron continued to chant the spell, knowing that if Voldemort turned away from Harry for an instant, he would be dead. But Voldemort would not turn away. He knew that Harry's strength had also grown immeasurably in three years, and it was taking vast amounts of his power to control the force coming from the boy's wand. If he should fail, Priori Incantatem would occur, and give the boy a chance to escape once more.

Ron could hear a swooping sound. He knew that the spell was beginning to work. If he'd had time to consider it, he would have called it amazing. He, Ron Weasley, was performing a Wand Breaking Spell. It was working because he was in the presence of the two most powerful wizards on earth. It was working because one regarded him with utter contempt, and presented no defences against the spell. The other regarded him with absolute trust, and was surrendering his wand to the spell.

The sound became a roaring of orange flames. From between the wands, a giant Phoenix had appeared. It turned its head from one to the other, as each wand shattered in turn.

Voldemort ran towards the bird, mouth open, fangs threatening to strike. As they touched, an explosion of fire engulfed them, and the blast spread outwards, throwing Ron to the floor and Harry into the Mirror of Erised.

The Mirror exploded into a thousand shards of crystal as Harry's body impacted with it. His head flew forward and then back suddenly, as his eyes unfocused and closed for the last time. Ron screamed with ice burning the inside of his gut as he watched his closest friend in the world tumble through the Mirror's towering frame. A vicious shower of glass and wood fell onto Harry's body.

Not now … please not now, after we've come this far..

The silence that suddenly came was more terrifying than the jarring chaos of moments before. But Voldemort lay crumpled and dead. It was obviously so. The Phoenix that had incinerated his body had returned to where ever it had come from. The Dark Lord who had sought immortality, and taken the lives of so many others in his frenzy to achieve it, had been decimated by the truly immortal bird.

Ron at last found himself able to move. Tearing his eyes from the hideously charred remains of Voldemort, he stepped over to the mirror.

He knew that he would not find Harry alive. But maybe, what if there was still a chance? He expected the worst, and prayed for a miracle. But neither came. Harry, dead or alive, was not there. Behind the Mirror all he could find were shattered pieces of glass and oak. Ron spun round frantically, calling out to his friend. He ran to the door of the Chamber and yelled, screeching for help. Who would hear him?

The silence of the Chamber seeped into Ron's insides and made him shudder. The room was blurring now, through waves of hot tears that spilled down his face. In a fury, he hurled part of the smashed mirror frame at the monster that lay defeated at the other side of the room. It struck the body with a sickening wet thud, and Ron knew that it was all over. Voldemort had been destroyed, but at the cost of his best friend's life. He thought back to the hours Harry had spent in front of that mirror, in their first term at Hogwarts, when they had both been so young, and the world had seemed so safe.

After several minutes he stepped wearily over to the broken glass. The sobbing had given way to an almost peaceful gloom.

Suddenly in the rubble he thought he saw a movement. Moving quickly he poked the smaller shards away with his wand, to kneel before the largest remaining piece of the Mirror of Erised. The movement came from an image it contained. Ron could see Harry. He was standing with his parents, their arms wrapped lovingly around him. His gaze shifted from their faces to Ron's and he smiled. Then, slowly, his mouth formed the word, Goodbye. And he reached out to Ron. Their fingers touched, but on opposite sides of the cold, hard glass.

"Goodbye Harry," murmured Ron. He tried to smile. This was the Mirror of Erised. So was he really seeing the deepest desire of his own heart, to see Harry reunited with his dead parents?

"No!" he cried out bitterly.

This outcome couldn't have been further from what Ron so desperately wished for. But his Harry was gone, and this image of Harry looked so happy to be with the loving parents he'd never known.

The image was beginning to fade. As Ron gazed into Harry's face for the last time, he finally realised that it no longer showed any trace of a scar.



Fin.